The Struggles of Battle
by JekkieFan
Summary: A short fanfic for Shav's Media Production's orignal series Pins and Stitches. Scar leads his men in a raid, but thoughts of someone from his past won't leave him.


The clouds in the sky had finally parted, revealing the setting sun. It's amber light shone on the gray of the commander's face. Scar stood before the army of his hundered soldiers. All facing forward, ready for the raid. All boomed out their allegiance in one thundering voice. Adrenaline pumped through all but one soldier. The young soldier at the back did not look forward with the same verve, but was glancing behind him, towards a house. In front of the one, lone house stood the old doctor, Gray, who saw the nervous glances of Johnson, the young soldier.

Gray gave the boy a quick smile.

Johnson smiled back, then returned his attention to Scar just as the last agreeing shout echoed through the air.

The march to the humans began.

It was a short march, but short is a relative term. Compared to a week of marching, five hours is a mere walk next door. Reports had shown that a large group of humans were camping just a few miles east of sector seven. Step after step on miles of nutrient-less soil while trying to keep up with the ready soldiers. Johnson could hardly walk fast enough without stumbling. He so desperatly wanted to go back to Gray's and drink some tea. But Gray wasn't there, so Johnson marched with that happy thought of his friend in his little fluff-decorated head. Over time sweat and dust began to cover him from his hanging head to his aching post. He so desperately wished they could all–

 **Stop!**

Everyone stood still. Raised voices from the front. What was happening? Johnson clutched his pin, blue button eyes wide in fearful confusion. Johnson dashed for cover. _What cover?_ Any cover! Anything close enough that he could hide behind. In the distance Johnson heard Scar shouting commands.

Meanwhile the commander was unsparing towards the humans, piercing all that dared to approach him. One, two, four, seven down by his hands. Soon Scar's vision became blurred just to cope with the bloody sight. All cries of rage, victory, and fear became nothing but white noise in his ears. All except one. One sharp cry of fear that rose above all others and ripped Scar's attention from battle. _Johnson!_ Frustration cut through him like a hot knife. _Can't that boy take care of himself? I'm busy!_ But the cries for help still called him. Worry softened his heart and quickly swallowed it while. Scar turned to the direction and swiftly cut through the mass of people. Suddenly images of an old raid flashed in his mind's eye. Memories shut away long ago began bursting out. _Not now! Why now!?_

" _Help me!_ " another cry. Was it Johnson?

Scar tried to shake the visions away from his head, but they held on tight. He jabbed his pin in every thought, but none would die.

"Scar!" screamed the voice.

He couldn't let the past hold him any longer. Scar had to break free. He couldn't let his friend– _this boy_ die here. _Not now!_ Rushing to the screaming, Scar fought off the fiend who had hurt his – _Johnson_. The boy hid behind Scar while the frantic commander delivered the fatal blow.

Scar looked around him. Were the voodoom losing? Who was winning? They were surrounded by death and triumph. Johnson seemed too distressed to say a word. Scar could hardly keep his mind together. He gave Johnson one last command to leave before another human charged toward him. In a flash Scar was gone, letting the warrior take over.

Johnson ran away from the frightening scene just barely missing the point of the other soldier's pins. He didn't care if he was being a coward, he just wanted to live. Why was he even fighting anyway? He would have to some day, _but today is not that day. I'm not ready to fight_. Terrible were the heart grabbing howls from all around. Cries for help brought tears to his eyes. He wanted to help them. Oh how he wished that he could get up and save the day! He wanted to help more than anything, but he was no warrior like Scar. If Johnson was do aid his companions he would need to defend himself, instead of calling Scar for help. Johnson's thoughts turned to concern for Scar. His commander was fighting so viciously. Would this be the raid that would thoroughly break him? Johnson hoped not. The boy sighed and decided to wait out the raid in safety.

In the end the voodoom were victorious. All of the soldiers cheered upon their return to sector seven for a job well done. But Johnson was just happy to finally see Gray again. Scar watched Johnson's reunion from a distance, but still felt heavy-hearted. He decided to go take a walk before even atempting to integrate back into the norm.

Scar paced around his tent. _What happened?_ he asked himself. It was like his brain had been in two places at once. He rubbed his face in exhausted confusion. Then a small thought spoke just loud enough for Scar to hear:

 _Maybe someone else was calling your name._

 _No,_ Scar thought back, _it couldn't have been._ **He** had disappeared long ago. No, this was just a flashback triggered by the raid _._ Yes, Scar could swallow this. He could deal. He'd be fine.

Just fine.

Scar looked to the lighted windows in Gray's house. The glow of the fire and the shadows of his friends danced on the glass. Scar let out a sigh. He couldn't pace around his tent forever. Further pushing down his feelings, Scar decided to join Gray and Johnson for some tea. Just to get his mind off of uncomfortable topics.


End file.
